


Ron Weasley, part-time cupid

by SquaresAreNotCircles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, and absolutely zero Percy hate, some possible eye sex poor ron has to witness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquaresAreNotCircles/pseuds/SquaresAreNotCircles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron internally heaved a deep, deep sigh. He’d really expected better from Oliver Wood. This shy <em>I like you, do you like me back y/n?</em> type of communication was something even Victoire would be able to pull off in a year or two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ron Weasley, part-time cupid

**Author's Note:**

> This is something short and fluffy I wrote in Dutch about a year ago. Tonight I came across it and decided to translate it because it's one of the few Percy/Oliver one-shots I've written that I still really like + because I'm of the opinion that the world always needs more happy Percy with slightly weird protective brothers and a heart-eyed Oliver.

If even he could see it so plainly, Ron thought tiredly, it had to be _really_ obvious. He wasn’t the most observant person at Victoire’s first birthday party by a long shot, but he did have a pair of working eyes. What was going on in front of him was plain sad.

“Hey,” he said, interrupting Oliver’s story about the importance of a reliable broom, “do you know who else really loves Quidditch? Percy.”

Oliver looked Percy’s way for the forty-fourth time that afternoon. Ron was very sure of that because he’d kept count. Percy was engaged in a conversation with Mrs Delacour at the other end of the garden, but Ron had seen enough of him to know it was mostly a coincidence that right at that moment he wasn’t still attempting the same sneaky staring thing Oliver was doing. 

“Percy?” Oliver repeated, doubt clear in his tone of voice. “Your brother, Percy?”

“Do you know another one?”

“Well, no, but he’s not interested in Quidditch.”

Ron had destroyed Horcruxes and fought Death Eaters, so he could be forgiven a white lie, in his opinion. “Where did you get that idea? He hardly talks about anything else.”

Oliver opened his mouth, but it took a while before he spoke, as if he’d decided at the last moment to swallow his words and say something else. “He wasn’t like that at Hogwarts.”

“People change.”

“Hm,” Oliver said. He sounded almost disappointed. And yes, there was pining look number forty-five. This time Percy _was_ looking, but the accidental eye-contact was broken immediately because both participants quickly looked away. Ron internally heaved a deep, deep sigh. He’d really expected better from Oliver Wood.

Not better than Percy, of course. There was a good chance Ron would go mad if he ever had to spend over a day with Percy as his only company, but they were still brothers and that meant everything, despite whatever might have happened in Percy’s past. Oliver couldn’t have made a better choice in hopelessly crushing on someone, in so far as Ron was qualified to give his opinion on the matter. It was his brotherly duty to meddle in this kind of business without being asked, especially now that Bill was too busy organising his daughter’s presents and Charlie had disappeared half an hour ago with one of Fleur’s nieces. In the absence of older siblings, a younger one would have to take over their responsibilities. If Oliver chose a Weasley, it was at the very least a testament to his good taste in men, that much was clear. Plus, he already knew how large the family was, having played Quidditch for Gryffindor with nearly half of Molly and Arthur’s kids, so he’d know to think twice before carelessly breaking Percy’s heart.

No, the area where Ron had really expected better from Oliver, was the wooing. This shy _I like you, do you like me back y/n?_ type of communication was something even Victoire would be able to pull off in a year or two. Merlin, she probably could already, considering her lucky genes.

“Perhaps you should go talk to him,” Ron finally proposed, just before Oliver’s contemplative silence could push them over the edge into awkwardness. He was growing exhausted of all this dawdling. If this didn’t work, it would be time to use magic.

Oliver took the hint the wrong way. “Was my story so boring you’re trying to get rid of me?”

“Not at all. I just think you’d both like doing a little catching up. You know, you could say something about the right length for twigs on a Nimbus in professional sport, he could say something about the international standards for cauldron thickness, that kind of thing.”

“Cauldron thickness?” Oliver visibly brightened. Number forty-six. “He’s still working on that?”

Ron nodded vigorously and momentarily forgot his mission as part-time cupid. “Unbelievable, isn’t it, how someone can spend five bloody years of their life on that? I’d have died of sheer boredom years ago.” 

“That’s something I’ve always admired in Percy,” Oliver said, shooting Percy a number forty-seven so reverent that Ron was on the verge of just resorting to plain old violence, magic be damned. “His tenacity and dedication.”

Something snapped inside of Ron. His hand slid into his jacket pocket and gripped his wand. Just as he’d outlined a plan of attack in his head - he’d use _Petrificus Totalus_ to avoid any struggle and then simply _Wingardium Leviosa_ Oliver on top of Percy - Oliver straightened up and nearly dropped his cup of pumpkin juice. Ron followed the direction Oliver was looking and saw Percy heading straight for them. He gave up on his mental count right then, because the occasional glances had melted into a sort of intense staring contest that Ron felt slightly creepy being a witness of. Percy hardly looked in his direction when he reached them, hesitant smile at the ready.

“Hello.”

There was nothing hesitant about Oliver’s answering grin. “Hi Percy.”

Ron mumbled some choice words that might have sounded like he wanted to dump the remains of Oliver’s pumpkin juice all over two certain someones attending this party, but nobody was listening to a word he said anymore anyway. He made his escape and went looking for Hermione, because he had to get out of there before Percy and Oliver removed the eye from their eye fucking. He also urgently needed to tell his wife about his fearless attempts at intervention that had probably paved the way for yet another family wedding to attend. She’d be proud of him.


End file.
